


The Baby in the Fridge

by bettagettavespa



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: I don't know what I'm doing, I'm Sorry, Johnlock - Freeform, fridge, parentlock to follow, what even is this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-30
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 16:29:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettagettavespa/pseuds/bettagettavespa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a rather different experiment happening in the fridge of 221B Baker St.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was just past eight when John stumbled out of bed. He pulled his robe closer around him as he thumped down the stairs. Sherlock had forgotten to turn the heating on. Again.   
The man mentioned was already at the table when John walked in to the kitchen. In fact, he had been there for hours, his head buried in book after book until the newspapers had arrived. As John made tea, Sherlock scowled at the page in front of him until the apparent stupidity became too much and he crumpled it in his hands.

"Tea, Sherlock?" 

Sherlock turned and rolled his eyes as if to say "of course". As the kettle boiled, John headed to the fridge to get milk. Then, came a sudden shout.

"No!" Sherlock cried frantically, clambering over chairs, his long legs becoming tangled. John froze as Sherlock tripped and cursed his way over to the fridge before wrapping his arms around it protectively. "No, no. We... We have no milk. We need more. You should go. Go get milk, John."

"Sherlock..." John began cautiously. "Do I even want to know what's in that fridge?" Sherlock shook his head vigorously in response."Do I need to know what's in that fridge?" Sherlock paused for a moment before shaking his head again. John shrugged and grabbed his keys. It was better not to argue with Sherlock Holmes.

*

It was raining, of course, and by the time John walked to the shop and back he was soaked to the skin. As he headed up the stairs to the flat, he could hear Sherlock talking. Not his usual rapid, quick-fire, deep and harsh voice but a kinder, softer tone, almost boardering on lullaby. John walked slowly and tried to make as little sound as possible. Something he was good at. Something he was used to.   
As he entered the flat, he saw Sherlock in the kitchen, still by the fridge. This time, however, his head was in the fridge. His dark, messy hair bouncing as he talked enthusiastically.

"See, Erin, this is cheese. The word cheese comes from the Latin word caseus and-Erin, please put down the jam. You might upset John,"

"I think you may have already done that," glued to the spot, his mouth agape John stared as Sherlock wheeled around, almost falling and tipping the fridge over. He fumbled to close the door but it was too late. John had already seen the small, peachy skinned infant that sat in their fridge.

"Sherlock, please explain to me why there is a baby in our fridge," John's voice raised to an almost scream as he glared at both the man and baby, the latter of which had now began to whimper and cry.

"It's an experiment, John!" Sherlock said as if this explained everything.

"It is a baby, Sherlock! A human baby and it's... In our fridge," John's voice broke slightly on the last word as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please tell me why it-why she- is in the fridge,"

"It wasn't always in the fidge. It used to be in the hot press," Sherlock mumbled before turning around the comfort the baby, who had resorted to kicking things out of the fridge to try and get attention. " I wanted to see the effects of hot and cold on infants,"

"How long has this been going on?"

Sherlock still didn't look up. He seemed to put all his focus on rearranging the items in the fridge. John was mad. No, John was more than mad. He was absolutely livid. More mad than Sherlock had ever seen him and, though Sherlock wouldn't admit it, it was a bit scary.

"A couple of moths," Sherlock glanced behind him quickly to see John's eyes close to popping out of his head. "But I've been looking after it, I swear. I feed it and clean it and teach it. I even named it," Sherlock looked a little proud to have done these things. That he, Sherlock Holmes, could look after something without it... perishing.

John thought about it. All those times over the last month or so where Sherlock had offered to make the tea or to get things from the kitchen. He had thought... Well, he wasn't sure what he had thought but never in his wildest dreams could he have thought that Sherlock was capable of doing something so stupid. The baby did seem quite content, especially now with Sherlock fussing over her, but to experiment on a baby was really just to far.

"Well, you can consider your 'experiment' over. I'm putting an end to it. Now."

"But..."

"No."

"Can we keep it?"

"It's not a pet,Sherlock!"

"She's not going back to where I got her, John. I won't allow it," Sherlock was knawing at his bottom lip. He knew John but he didn't know this John. This John shouted a lot and probably wouldn't let him keep the baby. This John wouldn't make him tea for a very long time. He was going to have to play the guilt card. He looked John in the eyes.

"John, I don't want her to be lonely. I want her to have a better childhood than I did," Sherlock looked down, hoping he looked sad, lonely and rather forlorn.

"Are you telling me you've become attached to your experiment?" John was baffled and slightly amused. Sherlock could hardly take care of himself. How he had managed to take care of a baby, for even this long, was a shock. 

"If you keep it," John continued after a long pause in which Sherlock said nothing. "You can't have it the fridge. It's unsanitary and, quite frankly, a little disturbing"

"But the experiment, John! It had more time in the hot press than in the fridge. I won't get accurate results..." Sherlock trailed off under John's glare. Best not to push it.

John walked over to the fridge and replaced the baby with the milk he had just bought. She was cold but not dangerously so. She stared at John before grabbing hold of his hair and pulling. She was rather cute. John hated to admit it but he wouldn't mind having a baby around. 

He had always wanted a baby.  
Not with Sherlock Holmes, of course.  
Well...  
No.  
Not with Sherlock Holmes.  
Not gay.

John placed the baby in Sherlock's arms and she cuddled into him. Sherlock smiled down at her and then beamed at John as if to say "see? She likes me".

And that, John supposed, was the start of something really, really odd.


	2. Chapter 2

John was getting dressed and was half naked when Sherlock barged into his room.

"Where's Erin?" Sherlock was half out of breath and his face was slightly flushed, making him look far more alive than usual.

"Sherlock! You can't just... I'm getting dressed!" John stuttered as he tried to cover up. He could feel himself going bright red under Sherlock's stare, who was now smirking at him.

"Calm down, John. It's nothing I haven't seen before," this was followed by a rather awkward silence and John swore it looked like Sherlock was checking him out. Impossible. Well, highly improbable. Right?

Sherlock blinked and stuttered a few times before remembering why he was there and he became panicked once again. Just this morning he had wrapped Erin up in his purple shirt (it had always been a bit small for him anyways) and left her on the kitchen table so he could get dressed. He had told her to stay there and she gurgled in response. Did that not mean yes? Sherlock had tried to go about this in a practical manner and deduce where she was but his mind became so muddled.

"I brought her down to Mrs. Hudson," John said, pulling on his pants hastily. "I told her it was my cousin's baby and that I was minding it for awhile."

"She hardly believed that, did she? You've only got one cousin and he's off helping endangered species in Peru or something,"

"How did you- Oh, nevermind. Mrs. Hudson doesn't know that,"

Sherlock sniffed and nodded before leaving. Why hadn't John told him this? It wasn't his baby. It was Sherlock's baby and Sherlock should decide what is done with it. Truthfully, he had kind of been looking forward to bringing Erin out into the world and showing her off a bit.

They didn't say anything to each other until they were in the taxi. Sherlock was in a bit of a sulk and John was still embarrassed from that morning's encounter. It was John, of course, that broke the silence.

"I have some questions,"

"Of course you do," Sherlock sighed in annoyance. "Now is not the time."

They sat in an uncomfortable silence until they arrived at the shopping centre. 

"Is now the time?" John asked as they entered a shop called 'Klothez for Kidz' (a name Sherlock scoffed at).

"You're more of an infant than Erin. So impatient," Sherlock gave a short laugh. "Fine."

"Where did you get Erin? Why did I never hear her cry? Just.. How?"

"Not important. She doesn't-"

"What do you mean she doesn't? She's a baby, of course she cries."

"Erin is different," Sherlock turned away and began to choose clothes, all dark colours, no patterns. John walked to the other side of the shop. There was only so much information you could get out of Sherlock at a time. 

Ten minutes later, they came together. Sherlock had about twenty different items of babywear in varied hues of black, purple and dark green, while the items John had picked all had different patterns and bright colours. Sherlock grabbed one from John and made a face that said "really, John? Ducks?" However, they bought them all and neither mentioned their dislike for the other's choices.

The next stop was to get a bed for Erin. They would have it delievered to Baker St., obviously. Neither of them were willing to lug it back. They had a brief quarrel, which Sherlock won, before settling on very neutral cot. They picked up the rest of the necessities; nappies, a few toys (all of which Sherlock disapproved of). John was about to fill the trolley with baby formulas and foods when Sherlock stopped him.

"We have it all at home,"

"We do?"

Yes, of course. I have been feeding her you know," Sherlock snapped. Then, they relapsed back into silence.

Sherlock practically jumped out of the taxi when it arrived at 221B, leaving John to pay. Sherlock was already upstairs, cuddling Erin by the time John finished up with the cabbie. John popped in to Mrs. Hudson to thank her before going upstairs to make some tea.

"I made her," Sherlock had seemed to just appear behind him as the kettle boiled.

"You did what? Made who?"

"Erin,"

"That... That is impossible,"

Sherlock shook his head. "Obviously not,"

John just stared and kept staring. Even when the kettle made it's shrill singing sound, he didn't take his eyes off Sherlock. Erin wiggled in Sherlock's arms and reached for John, who just stared at her in surprise before staring at Sherlock again.

"She is," said Sherlock. "The perfect baby. I designed her to be. At first, she was just going to be an experiment. Then, she was going to be for experiments. Then, for just one experiment, which you stopped. Now, I guess, she's just... My baby. Well, our baby. That's if you want." Sherlock looked away, cursing himself. He thought he had let this go. This whole "feeling" malarky.

"How...?" 

"You're a doctor, you know how babies are made."

"So, you...?" John felt that glowing red enter his cheeks as he thought about that image.

"Don't be ridiculous, John." Then, Sherlock walked away and it appeared their conversation was done.


End file.
